Sayonara, Fools
by Pollux Unbound
Summary: Ulquiorra writes his farewell letter, for he has had enough of Aizen, Espada, and Las Noches and has decided to quit Hueco Mundo. Here is his letter to everyone. Oneshot. Implied UlquiGrimm GrimmUlqui Sequel to 'Adios, Amigos'.


**Title**: Sayonara, Fools

**Summary**: Ulquiorra writes his farewell letter, for he has had enough of Aizen, Espada, and Las Noches and has decided to quit Hueco Mundo. Here is his letter to everyone. Oneshot. Implied UlquiGrimm. GrimmUlqui. Sequel to 'Adios, Amigos'.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach; Kubo Tite does.

--

To you, you, and all of you scoundrels:

_Aizen-sama_. First of all, I'll miss you when I'm gone. Apart from gaining impossible heights in power, you have taught me much, and in consequence I have learned much. I learned, though quite too late, that you are a bastard. So, you can go about destroying Karakura Town now. Blast yourself along with it…please? PS: The fucking favoritism was good though, but the fucking itself wasn't.

_Lieutenant Tousen_. I thank you for your lectures, your noble aspirations which you so selflessly forwarded to me, your compliments, your peaceful stature which influenced me more than you can imagine, and most of all, I thank you for being a trusting son of a—leader. You have stood by me a lot of times, pulled me from nasty pits, and… know what? I really wanted to see you through the end of this. Like, I have been always sure that justice is where your allegiance lies. I still do not doubt that even now. So, since you are so obsessed with peace and justice, so much in fact that you have made me puke a couple of times just by simply pronouncing these terms, I give you peace. It is my greatest gift. Drink your tea now, and attain absolute peace. And die—er, drink. And, oh, I have a question which, believe me, doesn't have anything to do with anything here: does arsenic work in Shinigami people? Er, never mind. Please drink your tea. Immediately, if not as soon as possible. Now. Please?

_Lieutenant Gin_. I don't quite understand why everyone seems to look at you in plain hatred. I suspect that these unwanted effects you receive from most of us are made possible by that—those—uhm—excuse me, but are those snaky slits your eyes? In any case, you have to open them once in a while so you wouldn't be mistaken for an experiment gone awry. Just a piece of advice there. And also, your—that—uhm—pardon me, but does that crack below the lower portion of your—your—I'm quite sure that's a face—face happen to be your mouth? Well, whatever it is, I suggest you moderate your grin so as not to gather shrieks of disgust from the female population of this dimension. If all else fails, however, you can just pass this note to Yammy and drink tea with Lieutenant Tousen. Be sure to gulp down at least a cup. I beg you.

_Yammy. Diez Espada. _Please don't blame me for your inability to lose weight. I mean, nicking all those human delicacies wasn't an easy task. You see, if anyone cared to know, I'd tell him that I had assisted you and supported you in your weight-loss battle in ways that mattered; So much so that the diet procedure I recommended to you underwent a thorough research before I decided to hand it to you. If you must know, there are these things that people call calories. They are these nutrients, invisible to the naked eye, in food that give you energy. So without calories, there'd be no energy for you. Without energy, you wouldn't be able to exercise. Without exercise…well, that would just be too bad because you're a fat-so. The point is, a normal adult human being is entitled to consume around 2000 calories a day. In your case, being the fat-ass that you are, since you are approximately three and a half times larger than a normal human being, you are required to consume 7000 calories per day. But the work you do, what with the exercising and the missions, unfortunately triples this amount. So, yeah, I was right in assigning a 21,000-calorie diet to you. If that doesn't kill—I mean—make you thin, I DON'T know what will. Keep up the hard work. Please?

_Aroniro Alulueri. Noveno Espada. _I want to know, have you two always been together? You have two heads, right? That accounts for one brain, right? You have half each, right? Figures. Well, I was never successful in telling you apart, so I'll go with Noveno 1 and Noveno 2. To start with, Noveno 1, please refrain from being too blunt in YOUR disgust with Noveno 2, because as you have told me, he can't help it if he's a born moron. Now you can hand this note to Noveno 2. Noveno 2, I understand how horrible it must be to be stuck in a fishbowl with an ugly twin who can't seem to recognize hate even if the whole world propels it towards him. Er, at least that's what YOU told me. I know. You should settle scores right here, right now. Your Zanpakotou's name is Glutoneria, is it not? That would mean it loves to eat. Let's see who among you deserves the weapon most. But then, it's hard to fight another if you're practically sharing the same body. My solution: you can start by trying to bite each other's head off. Literally. My meaning made plain: I implore you to eat that head with whom you share your miserable tank.

_Szayel Apollo Grantz. Octava Espada._ And now you still wonder why I won't go to bed with you? The fact is, you never really delivered sexual thrills to anyone at any point and any given premise. Never mind how least likely it is for that to be the case because that is INDEED the case. So, being a deluded, incompetent wisecracking drag was never really on your list, was it? Well then, care to explain why you are exactly being one, without miss? Alright, that hurts. I'll tell you how to stop the pain. I know you're suffering, bleeding all over the place with this truth that has been recently made known to you. As your comrade, I present to you my most precious possession. Enclosed in here is my lifesaver. The Dagger of Melchor. I expect you're old enough to distinguish what purpose it may serve you. I already arranged for the High Sepulcher for your new resting place. May you rest in peace and do not disappoint me, I entreat you.

_Zomari Le Roux. Septima Espada_. I really have no particular thing to say to you. Nor do I hold anything in mind some event that I can reminisce with you. On principle, I'm more inclined to just skip this dedication and abandon you to wallow away in the thought of being unwanted and… alright, I'll be honest here. Stop sulking, for Pete's sake. I mean, if it's any consolation, your Brujeria is pretty much something; can't deny that. On other issues, I know for a fact that you hate pride and arrogance. I'm arrogant. Quinto is arrogant. So is Sexta. Tousen, too, sometimes. Don't forget Segunda. But do you know who the most arrogant among us pricks is? Bingo. Aizen-sama. I presume we have reached an understanding here. Eliminate ALL them arrogant bastards, I beg you.

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack. Sexta Espada_. This is going to be a major difficulty so allow me to grant you a moment of peace, for I intend to save you for later.

_Noitora Jiruga. Quinto Espada_. If I may be allowed to explain, I never called you names behind your back, and perhaps at no remote place in time did I ever consider such as something I'd perform in the long run. You should've known that when I mistook your abnormally large set of teeth for the keys in my piano, I blundered in it in earnest. In which regard, you can't fully accuse me of having plotted murder on you; come on, all I was thinking at that time was that my favorite musical instrument was out of tune, so what more could I have concluded than its being in urgent need of tuning. And you're telling me that resetting its strings is hardly synonymous to Cero-ing it? Give me a break. If you grow tired of an object that has obviously been broken beyond repair, what would you do with it? You get rid of it. By using Cero. What I can prescribe to you, so as to avoid misfortunes of that sort, is a dental procedure. It's pretty simple. There'll be no need of filing your teeth; you just have to take them ALL out. Also, the mask must be removed, too. The Arrancar mask, okay? It goes hand in hand with your dental structure, from what I can tell. If you need help, just call me… no, call me, really.

_Halibel. Tercera Espada_. Don't you think it's strange that Aizen-sama should always assign this number to a female? No? I guess we differ in many ways than none. For one thing, your jugs are showing off; mine are concealed. You got me; I'm in possession of no boobs, nor do I desire a pair of them. For another, you're flashing more skin than half the world can handle. For a third, unlike me, I don't think it's necessary to gear yourself with such a scant amount of clothing, and to think that my complexion is much more in need of tanning than yours, if you know what I mean. Another thing is… I don't need to expound on it any further, let alone specify each and every one of your follies. What I ask of you is simple: cover up a damn bit. But before you wrap yourself up entirely, I'd like to see how beautiful you really are. Would you mind if I asked to peek beneath your turtleneck collars? Oh, your mask is underneath the collars? Too bad, then! Oh, well, I reckon I'll have to settle with the thought that the former Tercera was indeed prettier than you. By a LONG shot. But take heed, my lovely one, that you can redeem your reputation by taking off the foolish mask. I swear this is the best counsel I have ever come up with.

_Bargan. Segunda Espada_. Shouldn't you agree with me that your time here is only to coincide with ours for a few hours from hereon? Look at you. Go get a mirror and examine what you see. There. Now look around you. We're all well in the ripeness of our years, while you… well, even as I always bestow special regards to senior citizens, I must say you just have to go. Undoubtedly, you have been more than once afflicted by the unfettered vigor of the youth surrounding you. Moreover, this is not an age where oldies should prevail and thrive in a sea of youngsters. So sleep well, comrade, and consign your plight to time. I will remember you by so dearly, and as a matter of fact, I have already prepared a eulogy for you. No need to thank me. Rest now, and be GONE, bossy geezer.

_Stark. Primera Espada_. Hey, there is this gorgeous, totally rocking potion that some sick genius in Soul Society concocted. Hear this and wait for it: it's called the Eternal Sleep Drop. You get to sleep all you want WITHOUT inhibitions or disturbance of any sort. They say it can even transport you to another dimension, or otherwise it can make you feel that way. Are you reading this? You can travel and settle to a place where no one can stick her finger in your throat or grab your balls while you're snoring the night and day away! I have enclosed here a batch of order forms with Aizen-sama's signature on them. Just scribble you address on them and drop them off the mailbox. Or you can knock on straight against Soul Society's gates. I'm pretty sure 1,000 Shinigami wouldn't mean much beside your strength. After this procedure, you'll only have to wait until the package is delivered at your doorstep. And eternal sleep is what you get. Forever. Asleep. Like a dead dog. An eternity of tranquility. Beautiful as death. Ah, nothing tops it.

_And, finally, Grimmjow Jaggerjack. Sexta Espada_. I have no idea what you're babbling about. For all I know, you're either talking nonsense or you're just plain out of your wits. Or both and many more imbecilities. Be gone with your orange-haired Shinigami with all of my best wishes. However, I can't look past all those crazy invectives you hurled on me in your injurious letter where you creatively and ingeniously begged each and every one of us to drop dead. Have you not the slightest trace of subtlety in you, you blood-lusting whoreson? Or are you too simple to demonstrate such? I am inclined to consider the latter. Should I be the one to blame if I found a better fucke—partner—in Aizen-sama than you? No. I suggest you undergo a series of training. In bed. So, let me allot the necessities in due proportion. First, you need to be informed that I'm getting off here before you even get the chance to pack your toiletries. Second, I'm sure you accept the fact that I'm faster and stronger than you. Having said that, the fact remains that I'm getting off here first. Third, I can conjure a binding spell better than you, which consequently awards me more possibilities of outrunning you and freezing your flight, and yes, I'm leaving first. And they say nice guys finish last. Nice guys are these blokes we liked to murder in Hueco Mundo. So, as your last shot of loyalty and expressing gratitude to this world where you were created, go kill yourself.

_Signed,_

_Ulquiorra Scheiffer, Quatro Espada_

**END**


End file.
